Together they approached the great cactus standing with its arms raised, reaching up to the glass roof.
‘It looks like a kid’s drawing of a cactus,’ said Harri, putting his glasses on now the hot fog on the lenses had cleared. ‘It’s the most cactus-y cactus around.’
‘It’s a prickly pear,’ she told him. ‘They’re everywhere back home. You can eat every part of it.’
‘Not sure I’d want to,’ he said inspecting its spikes.
‘Ah,’ Annie sighed happily, turning on the spot. ‘I love it in here.’
‘Oh, look out,’ said Harri, removing his coat. ‘It’s happening. Might even have to unbutton my cardigan in a minute.’
Annie gasped in mock amazement.
Laughing, they made their way to the bench right at the centre of the glasshouse, beneath the spreading leaves of date palms.
‘What else is in there?’ Annie asked, nudging Harri’s knee with her own, indicating the basket by his feet.
He brought out the cookies; pink iced love hearts. Annie rolled her eyes but took one all the same. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d say Izaak was up at the ticket kiosk telling folks the glasshouses are off limits to visitors today.’
Harri bit his cookie, peering between the leaves to glimpse outside. ‘You make a good point. It’s oddly quiet.’
‘I don’t mind,’ Annie said, taking another bite.
A low buzzing sound filled the air and a fan, mounted in the glass high above, turned, distributing warm air. Birds sang loudly from the trees at the far edges of the lawns.
‘I’ve had a really great trip,’ Annie said.
‘It’s not over yet,’ Harri quickly replied. ‘We’ve got ages left.’
Sixty-seven hours. Annie didn’t have to say it. She felt the change in the air between them. Harri held his cookie mid-way to his mouth, thinking.
‘We did a lot of cool stuff,’ he said.
‘We sure did.’ Annie thought of only one thing they’d done, late at night at Castle Lore. The prickles on her skin made her certain Harri had thought of exactly the same thing at the same moment. The memory crackled between their bodies.
She glanced aside to check. Yep, he was turning the tiniest bit pink.
‘We never did talk about it,’ Harri said suddenly.
Annie didn’t even try to play innocent. ‘I know. But, what good would it do?’
Harri lifted his shoulders, then dropped them. ‘Don’t know. Just feels like something we should… address.’
Annie took the last bite of her cookie, caution sneaking in again.
‘Because it meant something,’ Harri went on. ‘And because it definitely crossed a line.’
This would be excruciating, Annie thought, if it wasn’t Harri. If it wasn’t so intriguing a thing to think about, to unpick and inspect. What would have happened that night if they hadn’t been interrupted by William’s arrival? Annie knew exactly what. She felt her face flush hot.
‘Warm in here,’ she said, stupidly.
Harri laughed a little, but he had a serious, searching look in his eyes now. He turned his body a little towards her on the bench anddammitif her own body didn’t automatically do the same thing without her instructing it to. She looked him over.
‘Harri,’ she began, not quite sure where she was going with this, she only knew that she couldn’t have what she wanted. ‘I’m going home on Saturday, and I have a bunch of stuff to do when I get there.’
‘You could come back, come see me in Wales? Or I could meet you somewhere in the spring? Where’s halfway between Wales and Texas? The Malvinas?’ He was lost in thought, and looking a little desperate, throwing out potential destinations. ‘Newfoundland? Canada? I have no clue!’ He was getting agitated, his eyes wild.
‘Harri? Harri!’ she stopped him. ‘I don’t even know where I’ll be, come springtime.’
